


Angelic Witness

by DC_Derringer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A bit fluffy but not a lot, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DC_Derringer/pseuds/DC_Derringer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After witnessing a murder, Castiel goes into witness protection with the dreamy FBI agent Dean Winchester. While Castiel fantasizes, Dean tries to restrain himself. Can they ever be together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angelic Witness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [linda92595](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linda92595/gifts).



“I’ll just be a minute,” Samandriel said cheerily. Castiel grumbled. It was cold out, and their night off, and he didn’t want to be late for the movie. He hadn’t been to a movie in ages and he didn’t even want to miss the previews. But Samandriel said he had to have a quick chat up in the office with their boss and for Castiel to just wait downstairs for a bit. But that was about twenty minutes ago, and Castiel was tired of waiting.  
Castiel and Samandriel worked at Heaven and Hell, a double your pleasure sex club. They both worked as ‘angels’ in Heaven, the upstairs lounge. They were exotic dancers and vanilla sex workers. Downstairs, in the Hell lounge, the ‘demons’ put on a more deviant sex show and specialized in BDSM for their customers.  
Quietly, Castiel made his way into the building, heading for Crowley’s office. He was a shrewd and disciplined businessman, but that didn’t mean his staff weren’t terrified of him. He had high demands for his workers, and there were nasty rumors about people who didn’t meet his expectations. Castiel assumed most of the rumors were started by Crowley himself to keep up his image, but made sure to always stay on his good side, just in case.  
Just outside Crowley’s door, Castiel could hear talking, low, but with a sharp edge to it. Samandriel was in there getting scolded and Castiel didn’t want to interrupt. He peeked through the partly opened door and saw Samandriel sitting down, vexed and worried while Crowely paced around him.  
“In conclusion, you haven’t been bringing in enough money as an angel, so I’m moving you down to Hell,” Crowley said, smiling. “You’ll make a nice little addition to our fallen angel corps.”  
Samandriel shuddered and Castiel did too. While the demons were doms for their clients, fallen angels were subs and expected to perform whatever twisted whimsy came onto their clients’ minds. Demotion to that position was often used as a threat, but rarely followed through.  
“I can’t be a fallen angel,” Samandriel said. “Just let me work out as an angel a bit longer. I’ll take more shifts.”  
“I’ve already given you more than enough chances sweetie, and you owe me an awful lot of money for that little habit of yours,” Crowley said, rubbing and snuffling his nose meaningfully. “So you’ll start tomorrow night. No ifs ands or buts.”  
“No!” Samandriel shouted, standing up defiantly. “I’m not going down there, and if you try and make me, then I’ll go to the police. I know what kind of shit you pull on the side.”  
Castiel’s eyes widened at this threat, and he started shaking his head, wishing Samandriel could see him. His friend was headstrong, and a bit stupid. He shouldn’t be making threats like that or something bad would happen. But Castiel couldn’t do anything to stop him. It was too dangerous to get involved.  
“The police?” Crowley drawled, eyeing Samandriel with some disappointment. “I wish you hadn’t said something like that. You were Heaven’s most adorable angel, and you were going to make me so much money.”  
For a moment, Castiel and Samandriel both wondered about Crowley’s use of the past tense, but it didn’t last long as there was a flash of metal, an ear shattering bang, and then Samandriel’s shocked expression as his hand went to his chest, where blood was blossoming out of him. Samandriel slumped to the floor and then fell. As his head hit the floor, his eyes met Castiel’s through the crack in the door, his mouth moved, trying to form words, but his breath was already gone.  
Castiel covered his mouth so he wouldn’t scream. Crowley still had a gun, and if he didn’t move fast, he was going to end up like Samandriel. Carefully, he crept back from the door, eased down the hallway, and as soon as he hit the stair doors, he ran as fast as he could, clattering, panting, and crying as he flew out of the building. As he hit the street, a scream bubbled out of him that he couldn’t hold back, and followed him down the dark alleys.  
~  
That was three months ago. That first night, Castiel had been in a panic. He wanted to run away, he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, he wanted to go back to his hometown, he wanted to rifle through Samandriel’s coke stash and snort himself stupid. It wasn’t until hours and hours later that he even thought to go to the police. That thought terrified him though.  
He, like everyone else who worked at Heaven and Hell knew what kind of side businesses Crowley got into. Illegal prostitution, drugs, money laundering, and now murder too, it seemed. But Crowley reigned with terror, and no one was brave enough to turn him in, and Castiel wasn’t even sure he was brave enough either, except that Samandriel had been his friend, and he was certain it wasn’t the first time Crowley had killed, which meant he killed other people’s friends too, and Castiel didn’t want that to happen.  
So that’s why, three months later, he was in a shitty ass motel with his own personal FBI agent as a bodyguard while he waited in protective custody until Crowley’s trial. At first, he had been reluctant to have a FBI agent watching his every move, shadowing him every second of the day, but then he actually saw the agent assigned to him, and he changed his tune pretty quickly.  
Dean Winchester was tall, strong, and striking. Big green eyes, adorable freckles, and neatly parted and combed light brown hair that begged to be mussed up in a big soft bed after having lots of sex. And those lips! Castiel had sinful thoughts about those lips the second he saw them, and every day after that whether he was asleep and dreaming, or working off a morning erection in the shower. He wanted to kiss them, he wanted to see them wrapped around his dick, and he wanted them working him open for a good, hard fucking. But Castiel kept most of this to himself, for a while anyway. The man did have a gun after all, and Castiel didn’t want to piss him off. But a little flirt here and there couldn’t be too bad, right?  
But for all his good looks, Dean was all about the rules and did not take kindly to Castiel’s advances and harmless flirtations. He cited all kinds of regulations, and his duty to protect, and professionalism. Although, Castiel never once heard Dean deny that he was interested in men, and so he took that as encouragement and took his fun where he could, especially since he was barely allowed to leave the room.  
“I got burgers, French fries, onion rings, and milkshakes,” Dean said as he came back to the motel from his lunch run. They did have a little kitchenette to cook in, but neither or them felt like cooking that day. So Dean ran out, leaving the uniformed officers in charge of Castiel for about 30 minutes.  
“Did they have strawberry?” Castiel asked hopefully. Not everyone had his favorite shake flavor.  
“Yep, with real strawberries in it too,” Dean said, handing over the frosty cup. He smiled genuinely, and Castiel loved that about him. As duty oriented as he was, he was also very understanding of keeping Castiel happy, and went out of his way to indulge him. Castiel also thought that was very encouraging.  
“I’m feeling cooped up. Can we go outside today?”  
“Hmmm,” Dean chewed his lip thoughtfully. A sign that he was going to say ‘no’ but that he was trying to think of a way not to. “We’ve already been here for a week, and we’re planning on moving out in a few days. We probably shouldn’t risk it in case any of Crowley’s people learned about this location.”  
“Well, you’ll have to think of some other way to entertain me then,” Castiel said coyly. He was sitting on the bed and reclined back, swinging his knees back and forth to splay his legs teasingly. But Dean just rolled his eyes and smiled. He’d gotten used to Castiel’s teasing, and hardly blushed or spluttered anymore. The best reaction had been one time when Castiel came out of the shower complaining that he’d forgotten to bring in a towel. He’d pranced out with just a hand towel to cover himself, and laughed charmingly when Dean almost fell out of his chair in his hurry to find Castiel a full-sized towel.  
“How about some movies instead?” Dean offered, and Castiel just sighed with reluctant agreement. He’d kind of hoped Dean would be interested in him, but he was all rules and regulation and barely looked at Castiel anymore. Boring. So he settled down on the bed, lounging while Dean picked out a movie and set it to play while they ate their lunch in companionable silence.  
~  
Nights were the worst for Castiel. He was a night owl by nature, whereas Dean was a regular sleeper. By ten pm, they had the lights down low so he could get enough sleep to get up early. Castiel couldn’t even watch TV because the shitty motel didn’t have a way to hook up headphones. He flipped through magazines aggressively, and listened to music on his MP3 player, while occasionally glancing over at Dean curled up in his bed, fast asleep and snoring slightly.  
The room was hot and stuffy, so Dean was down to his boxers and a sleeveless undershirt. He’d kicked most of his sheets off, and Castiel was taking advantage to stare as much as he could in the low light. Dean was all bundled muscles and soft curves, instantly and easily grabbable. He could just imagine himself gripping those broad shoulders while Dean had him jacked up against a wall, fucking into him. Those thick, bow-legs would hold him up easily, without even a tremble or strain.  
This was Castiel’s other past-time on the long, lonely nights. Masturbating covertly while his roommate slept. Of course, he could go into the bathroom, but it was more exciting doing it just a few feet away from him, with the constant risk that Dean would roll over, awake, and see him. That was a fantasy in and of itself, and Castiel used that to fuel his imagination that night as he slid his hands into his underwear.  
He imagined it was Dean’s strong, callused hand wrapping around his cock, pumping him quickly with a dry hand. He imagined that the straight laced, up tight agent wouldn’t be luxurious with himself, just a quick, perfunctory wank to flush the pipes. Nothing more. But Castiel wasn’t so cruel to himself, and so he changed tactics, imagined it was his hand, but Dean’s cock, and how he would show Dean the pleasures of the flesh he’d been missing out on. He imagined Dean almost virginal in his inexperience, shuddering with delight as Castiel touched him.  
Castiel reached discreetly under his pillow for the tube of lotion he kept, slightly more discreet than actually asking for lube. He dribbled some on his fingers, then wrapped them cool and slick around his cock, imagining Dean shuddering from the surprising pleasure of a smooth, wet touch. Oh, how Castiel would coo in his ear, teasing him with all kinds of filthy pet names to encourage him and make him blush. His freckles would look even prettier with a hot red flush underneath them.  
Quietly, Castiel shifted on the bed. Kicked his underwear down to one ankle and spread his legs. With more lotion, he slid a finger between his cheeks, imagining now that it was a nervous and jittery Dean, fucking a man for the first time and so worried that he’d hurt Castiel. But Castiel would plead with him, begging for what he imagined was a thick, fat cock.  
Castiel bit his lip to be quiet as he breached his hole with his wet fingers. He wanted nothing more than to moan and gasp and give into fantasy, but kept himself to low gasps of breath and choked out groans, shifting in his bed as little as possible so he wouldn’t wake his roommate. He soon gave into that fantasy, turning over to look at the subject of his masturbation, catching him watching, and then inviting him over for a bit of fun. But Castiel shook his head. He wouldn’t be that lucky. Every time he turned to look at Dean, the man was fast asleep, completely unaware.  
“Fuck!” Castiel gasped out as this time when he turned over to look at Dean, it was to catch those big green eyes staring back at him. Dean was sitting up in bed even, and Castiel panicked, pulling his hands away from himself, and trying to cover up, even though Dean had already seen everything.  
“Don’t,” Dean murmured as Castiel pulled the blankets up, and Castiel paused, watching with his heart jumping up into his throat as Dean stood up and stumbled over to his bed. He couldn’t breathe because he was pretty sure he was just dreaming, that he was only imagining that dumbstruck look on Dean’s face as he set one knee on the bed next to Castiel, a worried, unsure look on his face.  
“It was me, wasn’t it?” Dean asked.  
“You what?” Castiel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  
“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” Dean asked. He waited a beat, and then went on. “Course you were. Must think I’m a hunk of rock not to notice you trying to get my attention.”  
“Aren’t you?” Castiel asked. Dean had been amazingly resistant to his flirtation.  
“I’ve been trying,” Dean said as he climbed onto the bed fully, straddling Castiel and keeping him caged in on the bed. “But even rocks have their breaking point.” He leaned in real close to Castiel, almost for a kiss, but then dipping lower to press his face into Castiel’s neck, inhaling deeply, and then pressing his lips against his pulse ever so lightly.  
“I’ll crack you gently,” Castiel teased. He lifted his hands to run through Dean’s hair, soft and bed rumpled. Dean leaned into it, luxuriating in the long resisted touch and murmuring softly. Castiel tilted his head up and took his first taste of Dean’s lush lips. They were as soft as he’d expected, but the kiss wasn’t as clumsy as he’d imagined. It was strong and hungry, and Castiel was left breathless as Dean ate him up.  
While they kissed, Castiel gave into his curiosity, and reached down between them to the band of Dean’s boxers, tugging at them meaningfully, and pushing them out of the way. He felt Dean’s dick, already hard, against his hip first, and then he reached out to grab it. Dean jerked in his arms, letting out a hissed breath and then pushing forward into Castiel’s hand. Castiel grinned from the reaction, and the feel of Dean in his hand. It was as good as he’s imagined, thick and long, and just the thought of it inside him made Castiel even more impatient.  
“I want you so bad,” Castiel said, breaking from their kiss to beg, his voice thin with need. Dean nodded, already breathless and maybe a little mindless too.  
“Can I…?” Dean asked, trailing off, nervous. “Do we need…?” he tried again, but still couldn’t quite find the words to explain what he wanted, what he needed. Castiel took pity, smiling and petting him reassuringly. It was so much better than any of fantasies, because this Dean was warm, and hard, and eager for him.  
“I’m ready,” Castiel said. “But you gotta go slow. It’s been awhile for me,” he said. He had the bottle of lotion ready in his hand and poured some out onto his hands to spread over Dean’s cock. Now he really wished he had gotten up the nerve to ask for real lube. But at least he’d been fingering himself earlier. He wouldn’t be too tight.  
Dean nodded, and took Castiel’s warning to heart. He smoothed the lotion over meticulously, propped Castiel up carefully, with a considerate pillow under his hips, and pressed in slowly. He kept his eyes on Castiel’s face as he entered him, watching for any twitch or twinge. Castiel breathed slowly and deeply while he was penetrated, the stretch almost overwhelming after such a long, unintentional celibacy. But Dean was good, and despite his size, it was only a dull ache, which was easily overcome by the deep, satisfying fullness, the heat of their bodies, and the pulse of their hearts. After a few pushes and pulls, Dean was all the way in, pushed deep so that they were fully connected.  
“You OK?” Dean asked, brushing sweaty hair back from Castiel’s forehead.  
“I’m perfect,” Castiel said, grinning up at Dean. For months he’d been wanting this, and even if it did turn out to be just a dream, he didn’t care, because he’d never had a dream this vivid before. He’d never felt it so well, mixed in with the feel of it, the taste of it in his mouth, and the heady, sweaty scent all around them. Now all he needed was more, and he knew how to get it.  
Dean had gone slowly at first and that was good, but when Castiel was finally relaxed and used to the size of him, he didn’t need slow anymore. So he rolled his hips up, hooking his feet behind Dean’s back to pull himself up further, grinding himself against Dean’s dick. Dean answered Castiel’s body and rolled right back, pushing deep inside him. The rhythm formed around them, flowing easily faster and then slower, long and then short. They jerked and juddered a few times, but got back into it quickly, responding to each other’s moans and grunts.  
Dean went off first, shaking strongly as he gripped into Castiel’s shoulders, hard enough that there might be bruises there the next morning. Carefully, Dean pulled out, watched Castiel’s reddened hole for a moment, and then smiled in satisfaction as his seed spilled out, but he wasn’t finished yet. Castiel groaned fitfully as Dean reached for his cock, stroking him quickly while he leaned down to give Castiel a kiss. They each curled onto their sides for comfort while Castiel bucked into Dean’s hand. His fingers were strong and callused and pulled the orgasm out of Castiel quickly. A sticky spurt added his mess to the sheets, and they laid resting for a few moments, eyes closed as they caught their breath.  
“Shouldn’t have held out so long,” Castiel said, his voice a softened, teasing scold. “We could have been doing this the whole time.”  
“Yeah,” Dean said distractedly. “That woulda been nice.”  
“Glad you gave in though. Now this witness protection stuff won’t be so bad.”  
“Look, Cas, I…” Dean trailed off and sat up on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. Castiel knew that look, guilt and regret. He’d seen it a lot at the clubs, with men who had wives at home, who could never admit what they really wanted. It hurt, but he should have known better. It explained why this game had taken so long to play out.  
“Don’t worry about it, agent,” Castiel said, keeping his voice as cool and aloof as he could when all he really wanted to do was scream and fight. “You can just pretend this never happened. I won’t tell anyone.”  
“Pretend it didn’t happen?” Dean asked with confusion, but they it turned to alarm as Castiel rose from the bed. Dean’s hand shot out, pulling him back in. “No,” he growled. “That’s not what this is.”  
“Then what is it?” Castiel spat back, pulling against Dean, but with no effect. He was much stronger than Castiel, and those muscles he’d been admiring for so long suddenly became incredibly annoying. “And make it good. I’ve heard every straight boy excuse there is.”  
“My job is to protect you, and to do that, I can’t have any distractions. And you,” Dean said, gesturing to Castiel’s body. “Are the biggest distraction of all. I’m emotionally compromised, and I can’t protect you like that. I can’t make the best decisions – so I have to let someone else make them.”  
“Someone else? Another agent? When?”  
“Tomorrow morning,” Dean said. “I kept trying to tell you all day, but I couldn’t. And then when I saw you tonight, knowing I’d be gone tomorrow, I couldn’t resist anymore. I’m sorry.”  
“So what, that’s it? Wham, bam, good luck with Crowley ma’am?” Castiel snapped.  
“Agent Sam Wessen will take good care of you. He’ll protect you until after the trial, and then afterwards…”  
“Afterwards?” Castiel asked  
“I’d like to see you again... If that’s OK with you.”  
“Yeah right,” Castiel scowled, now taking his own turn wrapping his arms around his knees, protecting himself from getting his hopes up again. “We’ll set up a coffee date as soon as Crowley’s behind bars,” Castiel said sarcastically.  
“Then I’ll meet you outside the court house when the trial is over,” Dean said, smiling despite Castiel’s dour face and sarcastic tone. “I promise, I’ll be there.”  
Castiel grumbled and turned over, away from Dean. He exaggerated a yawn and said he was tired. Dean wished him a forlorn goodnight as he crept back to his bed, but Castiel didn’t respond. He just shut his eyes as tight as he could and willed himself to sleep. It didn’t work for several hours.  
~  
By the time Castiel woke up the next morning, Dean was gone, along with all his stuff. Castiel had heard some movement in the room while he was still half asleep, but had stubbornly remained in bed, feigning full sleep. He remembered just a brief touch of lips against his forehead, and a whispered promise about coffee, but brushed it away.  
“Hey, good morning! I’m Sam,” said a giant of a man with long floppy hair and a way too cheerful smile for this early in the morning. “I got us some breakfast.”  
“Dean’s gone?” Castiel asked blearily.  
“Yeah, he headed out. But don’t worry, I’m all caught up on your files, and I’ve got years of experience in the field. It might be a bit different, but we’ll get through this together, OK?”  
“Mm,” Castiel grunted. In any other circumstance, he would have found Agent Wesson incredibly attractive, would have imagined those big strong arms wrapped around him, and easily being carried by all those muscles. But he’d had enough of fantasies and day dreams. “What’s for breakfast?”  
Sam smiled and laid out the feast he’d brought for breakfast. They had a quiet, easy-going meal. Castiel answered any questions asked of him, smiled nicely, and tried not to show how heart-broken he was.  
~  
The trial had been terrifying. Everything building up to it had been so boring and distant from the actual events, that when it came down to it, to testifying and cross-examination, Castiel hadn’t been prepared for how nerve-wracking it would be. All through his testimony, Crowley had been grinning at him, so self-assured and confident. He even made irritating kissing faces at Castiel, winking at him, trying to unnerve him.  
But that had all disappeared when the jury filed in and gave their unanimous verdict of guilty. The courtroom erupted with cheers and screams, and even Crowley lost his well-controlled cool. His face bulged, turning bright red as he screamed out promises of pain and misery. It would have been more terrifying if it hadn’t been undercut by two guards dragging him out of the courtroom in handcuffs, never to see the light of day again, despite the promises by his lawyers about an appeal.  
Castiel waited several hours to slink out of the courthouse, long after the news trucks had left, and after his look-a-likes had been sent out ahead of him to distract the reporters. Eventually he would have to face them, give interviews, but not today. He wanted to be done for today, and finally go back to his home, and just sleep everything off.  
Sam led him out a side door, and then went off ahead to fetch the car to drive him home. Castiel waited, exhausted. He was too distracted to notice as someone approached him until he had a cup of coffee shoved into his line of vision. He looked up and Dean was there, grinning, with two cups of coffee.  
“Hey,” he said simply. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”  
Castiel took the cup stupidly, not sure what else to do. He didn’t drink it though, just stared up at Dean, the handsome man he was sure he would never see again, but who was standing there with coffee, just like he’d said he would. He could feel his heart thumping up in his chest, fit to bursting with excitement and disbelief.  
“I’m sorry I had to leave. I won’t do it again, I promise.” Dean said. “Mind if I give you a lift home?”  
“Sam’s going…” Castiel started, and then realized Sam had been gone a long time for a car parked around the block. Dean grinned at him, that sweet, charming grin that Castiel had fallen in love with that first day. Finally, Castiel smiled back and then sipped his coffee.  
“You wanna get some pastry to go with that coffee?” Dean asked.  
“No,” Castiel said. Dean frowned a little bit. “I want to take you back to my apartment and make you some breakfast.”  
Dean smiled again and arm in arm with Castiel, he led him to his car. They’d go back to Castiel’s apartment, make eggs and bacon, and more strong, black coffee. They ate most of it before they tumbled into bed, and made it feel like the first time again. But of course, it would only be the first of many, because Castiel wasn’t going to let him run off again any time soon.


End file.
